


Alive

by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden)



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Spoilers, Fix It Fic, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), maximoffs feels, post AOU, scarlet vision undertones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-26 17:16:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3858559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Of_Dresden/pseuds/ClaraCivry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Age of Ultron spoilers!</p><p>Wanda didn't know how she'd done it - all that mattered was that he was back. That he was alive as he should have been.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sometimes Wanda disappeared and nobody knew where to. They just left her – nobody wanted to get on her bad side, so they simply went on without her and waited for her to return, without much hope of ever finding out where she actually went. 

Which was good, because she didn't mean to tell them. Wanda knew that everyone would find out, eventually. But then there would questions, and reprimands and many people wanting to get to him, to make what made him, how was he posible. And Wanda also knew that if the wrong person found out it could mean a major catastrophe. So she had forgotten. She'd been the only one to know, and she had made herself forget. 

All that she knew was that she had brought her brother back and that he was just like he'd been.

She didn't know how she'd done it and she didn't want to remember, she was pretty sure that her memory loss was intentional. She didn't want to power of life and death on her hands, she didn't want thousands of people coming to her because they wanted to be reunited with their loved ones. When they asked, Wanda would say that she didn't know how Pietro was alive. And she wouldn't be lying. 

Because Pietro was indeed alive. He wasn't supposed to, but somehow she'd made it. After all that time obsessing and thinking every minute about how to do it while her other half lay in a cryo-chamber she had somehow managed to get him back. Wanda suspected that the Vision had had something to do with it. He (was Vision even a he?) was one of the few people who knew about Pietro and had exceptionally kind with both of them. A true ally. She also suspected that she'd scared some high profile SHIELD members and Fury treated her differently. Well, if they had helped, then she was just grateful.

Wanda felt as if she could breathe again, live again. The world had broken, had stopped making sense when Pietro was hit. There was only grief and horror and pain like she had never felt before. Pietro lying there... Not even the worst nightmares her gift could concoct came close to what she had felt. That was her brother, her only family, her protector and confidant. She knew that with time the pain would be bearable, she'd be able to live without this darkness that was her life since he left. But she didn't want that. She didn't want to make peace with Pietro's death. 

It was not his time. So she didn't stop until she managed to get him again. Which she did.

Although it was the same Pietro as ever (Wanda had been afraid that the person that awoke was not his brother anymore, that he'd been lost, and boy was she happy that it wasn't the case) he still needed more sleep than usual, and got tired more easily. He needed more energy because he'd been drained, that was all. Healing all those wounds hadn't been easy. He needed time to go back to who he used to be. But he was getting stronger every day, and soon he would be back to the annoying unstoppable blur that she had missed so much. 

So sometimes Wanda left whatever commitment she had with The Avengers to just be with her brother. Have lunch, maybe watch some tv. Or sometimes just the company was nice.Even if he was asleep, like this time, Wanda liked to see him sleeping – just the presence was reassuring. The silver hair, the twitchy hands, the face she'd grown up with. The comforting rise and fall of the chest. It was a marvel simply to know that he was breathing. She hadn't lost him. And she wouldn't again. Even if she had to tear apart every law of physics then she would. 

Pietro turned in his sleep. He'd always been a restless sleepless, running, it seemed, even in his dreams. Wanda smiled. For a while, she thought she would never smile again. Never truly be happy again. She imagined a life forever by Pietr's loss, his memory. But that was nothing more than a bad memory now. 

He was alive. 

She went back to the Avengers building after a while, not knowing what she would say to the other, only to find out that as many times before Vision had covered for her. 

“Thank you.” She said and she meant it. There was something about him that she found very pleasant... almost calming.

“You are very welcome.”

Sometimes Vision would come with her to lunch and just stood there, with her. Sometimes he would go to her for advice. He was an strange individual, but so was her. 

“Do you how I did it?” Wanda asked, and they both knew what she was talking about. 

“I do. I also know why you wanted to foget.” God, she loved his voice.

“You probably can't forget anything even if you wanted to, right?”

“Well, I'm learning new things every day.” Wanda smiled and he continued. “ But I understand why you did it and I admire you for doing it.”

Her smile grew. 

“The problem will be telling everyone else.” Wanda commented. It was too soon after Ultron for more impossible science. “How do you think they'll react to seeing him again?”

“There will be some suspicion, certainly, maybe someone will say that he is a threat or something of the sort. But I think most people will simply be glad that he is alive.”

“Alive.” Wanda said. “Such a wonderful word. Pietro is alive.”

And that he was. In her apartment, Pietro woke, rested and ready. He opened his blue eyes and looked out the window, seeing the streets, the people, smelling the air. The world kept turning, with its good and bad, its dangers and opportunities, wonderful moments and heartbreaking ones. And he was on it. 

Alive.


	2. Chapter 2

Clint had wanted to go back and check on the Maximoff kid, almost needed to. While Nat told him that she was training with Vision and the others and that she seemed relatively okay, he wanted to see for himself. Wanda had lost her twin brother while he'd been protecting him, and he felt slightly responsible. So he told Laura he'd be back soon (and meant it) and went to the new Avengers facility.

When he saw Wanda (from a distance, as usual) he realised that something had changed. She seemed not just all right, but too all right. It hadn't been that long since the final battle with Ultron and she looked... happy. Happy-ish, at least. He had hoped that she wouldn't be lost in some terrible grieving hell, but it was eery how not affected she looked. How normal her life continued to be, as if nothing had happened. Clint wondered if she had mind-controlled herself to forget. She could probably do it, being as powerful as she was.

But, even though he probably shouldn't have, and even though it probably would look a bit creepy from the outside, Clint followed her from a safe distance. There needed to be an explanation, and he had a feeling of what that explanation could be. (The kid couldn't be dead, he was too fast, too young, too... important? Maybe. Yeah, important, of course he was) So he silently shadowed Wanda until she went to her place. And saw him.

That quick bastard.

He looked thinner and pale, but he was smiling at his sister, and alive and relatively well, and Clint felt like a terrible weight was lifted from him. As if they had won again, and better. He had to leave, because he'd said that he would be back soon, but vowed to come back later another time. Maybe even go in, say a little something. Yeah, he would do that. He owed it to the kid.

The next month he went near the apartment where Pietro was several times, never getting too close, never coming in. Clint knew that he had to say something after what the speedster had done for him, but didn't know if he'd be able to put the magnitude of it into words. "Thank you getting yourself killed to protect me"? Too morbid. "I literally owe you my life"? Too obvious. "What you did was nice"? Understatement of the century. Maybe he could do a card, with a generic message a few niceties.

Even that seemed impossible, so he asked his kids for help. He simply told them that a friend of his was recovering from a very very very bad illness and that he wanted to make a nice card. And so they painted some nice scenes of their favourite things and Clint simply added a Get well soon in his handwriting to the page with kids' drawings. Maybe that would do for now, while he figured out the right words to say.

So he went back to the apartment where he knew Pietro would be and snuck in. The place was silent and peaceful, Wanda having left to do some shopping. Clint found his savior asleep in his bed, obviously in a deep sleep, his long form sprawled under grey sheets that were messed in every which way possible. Clint probably should have guessed that the kid was a restless sleeper – it went with who the guy was.

Clint left the card on the nightstand and started to leave, but couldn't.

"You look good, kid." He said in an almost umperceptible whisper. "It's good to have you back."

Pietro said nothing, just stayed there, eyes closed, breathing rythmically. Somehow, it made Clint want to continue.

"I'm- I'm sorry I joked about shooting you. You really were missed."

And Clint hadn't worded that before, hadn't even thought about his little joke, but he realised now that it had been in his head. Because when it actually happened and Pietro was shot it hadn't been funny at all. It had been horrifying. More than anything, it had hurt – it had been painful. Watching him fall, seeing all those wounds. Painful wasn't even close.

"What you did, that" he continued whispering, suddenly inspired "– that was beyond honorable, beyond selfless. I know you had rocky beginnings and did some questionable things, but never think of yourself as less than a hero. 'Cos that's what you are."

Pietro gave no indication of noticing him, so he just continued in his low whisper, speaking mostly to himself, but getting everything out.

"You know I kind of named my youngest son after you? His middle name is Pietro, he's Nathaniel Pietro. Which is appropriate too, because he just can't stand still. One day I'll introduce you, and to the others as well. You should come by with your sister, let Laura coddle you, have a nice home-cooked meal, have someone to worry if you're eating enough or if you need a jacket for the cold. You guys deserve that."

Pietro let out a little moan from his bed, where he still slept, and moved a bit.

"Yeah, I know, I should probably get going. This got long. Just wanted to thank you for saving me, saving that boy – for risking your life. So, thank you. You rest up now, kid, you've earned it."

And then, almost as an afterthought, maybe because it was what he said to his kids, or who knows why, he silently added:

"Sweet dreams."

But as just as he was finally leaving, Pietro's lips turned into a smile and he said:

"Nathaniel Pietro, huh? Now, that I didn't see coming."

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked my absolute denial, would you leave some feedback? Thanks! #Pietrolives


End file.
